Always Running
by Scifi Riot
Summary: AU. This is my take on Carol. She never had Sophia & hasn't met the group yet. As the outbreak happens, Carol decides that facing the ZA alone is better than facing it with Ed. This story will eventually be Caryl. Rated M for graphic domestic and zombie violence, language, and future sex stuff.
1. Chapter 1

The courtship between Carol and Ed Peletier was a whirlwind. He was everything she looked for in her dream guy. He had a great job, came from a picture perfect family, and knew all the right things to say. She married Ed after six months of dating and realized as soon as her wedding night that she had made the wrong decision.

He never considered her to be a partner or teammate; he considered her property. The first time Carol disobeyed one of his unspoken rules was on their wedding night. She insisted that they make love face to face. But now that she was his, he no longer found the need to humor her. After making her insistent request, Ed issued his first of many blows that would happen throughout their marriage. He had no interest in her face or her eyes. As far as Ed was concerned, her needs were non-existent.

Her life continued that way for next several years. She learned that her literal survival was dependant on her unloving husband's mood. She even met Ed's mother for lunch while he was away at work. Expecting sympathy and support, Carol's despair reached new depths when she learned that Ed's seemingly perfect parents hid all the same secrets. His mother shared a few stories with matching scars. There would be no commiserating; she was showing Carol the deep battle wounds as a warning. The message from mother-in-law to daughter-in-law was loud and clear: make your husband happy or pay the price.

As news began to break of the spreading infection, Carol was at home nursing a sore, fresh bruise. She had brought Ed his breakfast at the kitchen table that morning and accidentally knocked over his coffee. She apologized repeatedly and bent over to clean up the spill, but Ed's fury had already surfaced as he broke the coffee mug over her left shoulder. She sat with a box of kleenex, smeared mascara, and an ice pack when the news began flashing alerts.

What had initially been reported as a series of attacks was then declared a full scale riot. Just before lunch, as details were flooding into the newsroom, it finally became clear that some sort of infection or virus was spreading like wildfire. Not more than 30 minutes later, the channel went to the state of emergency broadcast and stayed there permanently.

Carol quietly turned off the television and looked outside. She could see fires burning in the distance and hear the violence slowly starting to erupt. Popping into view from behind a bush, a man with an open wound on his forearm and glassy eyes looked directly at Carol standing inside her kitchen. He lumbered aggressively towards her and smacked into the glass. Blood soaked his button down shirt as he tried to bite and claw at her. He didn't seem to understand the kitchen window was in his way.

Losing herself in the man's crazed, distant eyes, the house phone rang and pulled her back to reality.

Ed screamed into the other end of the line _, "Pack all my stuff, I'm on my way home. And hurry the fuck up! We're leaving town!_

Ed hung up before Carol could even respond. She stared at the phone in her hand for another 10 seconds before she dropped it on the floor and sprinted to the stairs.

This was it. Her moment for freedom had finally come. Long ago, Carol had packed and hid a large backpack in case she ever became brave enough to leave Ed. She sprinted to it's hiding place in the attic and made sure all the contents were accounted for. With some room in the bag to spare, she grabbed several cans of food and a meager first aid kit. She quickly changed into clothes she thought might survive the outdoors and the sturdiest pair of sneakers she owned. Deciding she couldn't pack anything else, she grabbed two large kitchen knives. One went in her pack and one stayed in her hand. Lastly, she pulled a crowbar from the garage wall.

Carol nervously glanced out the front door, noting that while she didn't see Ed, she did see several car accidents and the infected were attacking drivers that had foolishly left their cars. Moving to the back of the house, she quietly unlocked the door to the deck but left it closed. Approaching the walker still banging on the glass to enter her kitchen, she gave her backyard one last look. Confirming that he was the only infected in sight, Carol used the crowbar to smash the low-lying window.

The man groaned and fumbled his way into the house. Once he was almost inside, Carol ran to the unlocked door and dashed out to the backyard. Carol was never much of a runner, but she used every ounce of energy to pump her legs through the empty field behind her house and into the woods.

She didn't know where she was going or what was even left of the world to find. She reached the edge of the woods and scurried in. She never looked back to see Ed enter the kitchen, kill the infected man, and watch her enter the treeline. She never heard him bark out her name and swear to "beat her ass". The only thing she noticed was that she was finally on her own. Carol was probably the only person in the world to consider the rise of the dead the best thing that ever happened to her.


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING: Lots of graphic violence in this chapter, including against children.**

Carol scrambled through the woods for hours. The only thing slowing her down was how dense the trees and brush had become. Just when she thought the forest wall had become impenetrable, she lost her footing and fell with enough force to break through the thicket. On the other side was a small creek.

Walking towards the flowing water, Carol realized how thirsty and sweaty she was. First testing it with her hands, she stretched out on her stomach and put her lips in the water. After drinking greedily for several moments, she dunked her whole face in. She scrubbed her face, rinsed her hands, and returned to drinking.

Once she stood up, Carol realized how brutally sore she was. She had several scratches along her arms and face from branches and thorns. Her shoulder had turned into a nasty spiderweb of purple flesh and broken vessels. Her legs were trembling from the exertion, and the adrenaline rush from earlier that afternoon had dissipated greatly.

The reality of her situation slammed into her like a freight train. She truly had nowhere to go. When she had packed a bag to escape Ed's wrath, she imagined she would be going to a women's shelter or hospital. She never guessed she would be alone in the woods. Carol was never even allowed to leave the house except to get groceries or run other errands as Ed demanded. She certainly wasn't someone who knew about camping.

Her thought was broken by a boom so loud the earth and air vibrated. Newly visible in the sky was a dark plume of smoke. Realizing it was time to move, Carol walked downstream towards the noise.

The forest seemed to thin out and she walked out into a small open field. Carol was now standing above the small city on a northern hilltop.

Everything in front of her had descended into absolute chaos. The large boom and dark smoke was the local power plant exploding on the south side of town. About a quarter mile down the hill was the only interstate leading out. Cars were piled up in both directions; no one was going anywhere.

People were screaming for God, loved ones, and death as herds of the infected tore through cars. With her mouth hanging in horror, Carol was frozen in spot while watching several infected descend upon a minivan. A mother was making a frantic attempt to free her two children, an infant and a toddler, from their car seats in the back. The dead surrounded her and dragged her screaming from her children, ripping apart her body until she was silenced. The high pitched shrieks of the two small children pierced Carol's heart all the way at the top of the hill. The feasting group followed the children's cries from the pile of flesh on the asphalt to the back of the van. Right as the first undead arm reached in, Carol forced herself to turn away.

Eyes overflowing with tears and her hand over her mouth, Carol walked as fast and quiet as possible along the edge of the woods. She doubted any sound she made at this point would distract the newly risen from the deafening mayhem of the city, but she didn't want to risk it.

Carol was terrified and had absolutely no plan. Her parents had died long ago and Ed made it impossible for her to have friends; he didn't even allow her to work. Moving further south into the unknown marshes of Georgia didn't seem like a very good idea. Her only guess was to start working her way north.

She knew from growing up that there were a lot of small towns throughout the south, some so small they probably weren't on any map. She reckoned that her best bet at this point was to find one of the backwoods homes and hope she could find help.

Carol spent weeks working her way north. When she approached larger towns and cities, she stayed as far out amongst the wildlife as possible. When she was out in the country, she walked down the road, checking cars along the way.

In the early days it was much easier for her to get by. She was able to avoid any infected by staying quiet and keeping her distance. The first time she had to actually kill one of the undead, Carol sank one of her kitchen knives into the walking corpse's back. It took four more panicked stabs and a fall before she grabbed a rock just within reach and smashed the attackers head open like an overripe melon.

Each day Carol became more hopeful that she might possess enough natural instinct to survive. After years of living under Ed's scrutiny and temper, she was surprised at how capable and even successful she was when left to her own devices. However, as weeks turned into a month, Carol became more and more certain that there was nowhere left untouched by the plague.

She had witnessed people looting and pillaging. From a distance, she watched a group of survivors ambush a pickup truck, kill the couple inside, and steal their supplies. Most people lost all sense of morality after only one month.

The first night Carol was attacked, she was sleeping in a small alcove of rocks that formed just enough shelter from the light spring rain, but apparently not enough hiding. Three men woke her up with a gun to her temple. They took everything she had except the clothes on her back. After they left she curled up and cried herself to sleep.

The second attack came only two days later. She had managed to find an abandoned gas station on an old country road. She devoured what few items of food and drink were left in the building then spent the night sleeping behind the counter. As dawn broke, she made her way outside to get moving before it got too hot. She was again surprised by a small, rugged, more violent group. They knocked her to the ground, kicked and punched her repeatedly, and ransacked whatever was left of the store.

Several hours went by with Carol unconscious under the awning of the gas station before she woke up. Feeling once again defeated, she crawled back into the gas station to heal as much as she could for the rest of the night. This time, she used all the strength she had to block the doors and windows before collapsing into a deep sleep.

Another couple uneventful weeks went by as Carol slowly moved up north. The summer months were unforgiving and she felt weak and malnourished. Seeing no other option, Carol decided it was time to take a break from running for awhile. She found a small group of houses, although they were more like glorified shacks, deep in the woods. Quietly looking through the windows, she noticed that the interiors were relatively undisturbed and there were no signs of recent movement. Just as she forced an unlocked window open, she heard a rustling noise to her right. Spinning around towards the sound, Carol took a shovel to the face so hard it snapped her head back into the house.

Still conscious but highly disoriented, Carol screamed as loud as her energy racked body could muster. She saw hazy forms moving around and running towards her; people seemed to be coming out of nowhere. Just as she went to let out another scream, a man sat on her chest and pinned her head to the ground with a rag over her mouth.

She was too weak and he was too strong. A couple deep breaths of the rancid smelling cloth and her eyes started to roll back into her head. The last thing she remembered before completely passing out was the sneer of victory on the haggard man's face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Another warning for graphic violence. No Caryl yet, but we are close. In this chapter, we will finally see some familiar faces. And this should go without saying, but just in case, this whole thing is waaaaay off canon. Also, sorry my chapter size is all over the place. This one is much longer. I'm new to this. I promise I'll get better with time.**

Carol's head was throbbing. She hadn't even opened her eyes but she could see the pulse of pain flashing behind her eyelids. She wanted to sit up and start raising hell, but her brain felt saturated with whatever chemical was on the rag that knocked her out. The best she could manage was rolling onto her side and attempting to sit upright.

She found herself on an old cot in a small cement cellar. She could tell from the cool temperature and earthen smell that she was also below ground. Looking at her dismal surroundings, she forced her brain to take notes and make a proper assessment of her current situation.

The cot she rested on was uncomfortable and clearly decades old. She had a dingy, stained pillow and a blanket underneath her. There was a bottle of water next to the bed and an empty bucket in the corner that she assumed was to be used as a toilet. Whoever had put her down here had thought the plan through and intended her to stay a long time.

Noticing several steep stairs that led to a door and a beam of light penetrating the room, Carol staggered to her feet and made her way up. Each step caused her to flinch as she forced the pain back and the nausea down.

She didn't expect the door to be unlocked, but it was worth checking. She wasn't surprised when it didn't budge against her weight, but she noticed that her malnourished body probably didn't have the strength to push it open anyways. The door was constructed of metal and built to withstand some serious damage. In addition, there seemed to be something resting on top of the door that partially blocked the beam of light trailing in.

She went back down the stairs and sat on the edge of the cot. Against her better judgement, Carol drank half the bottle of water before leaning back and curling up on the bed. She didn't plan on giving up, but she was positive her body wasn't ready for a fight.

A couple hours passed and night had fallen. The sound of something heavy being dragged off the metal door roused her from her sleep. With the fog in her brain finally cleared, Carol shot up and prepared herself for battle. She quickly chugged the water while faint voices from above began fumbling with the lock. It took two large men to lift the heavy door.

With her captors using all their energy to open the hatch, Carol lunged off the cot and sprinted as fast as she could up the stairs. She couldn't have been running any faster if she tried when she immediately barreled into a wall of a man. She looked up to see his face was weathered, unfriendly, and missing several teeth. The man threw his head back with a single deep laugh. Carol saw there were several men flanking him and they were also chuckling. Her escape attempt was apparently pretty entertaining.

The man's giant hand grabbed her upper arm and dragged her around to face the group.

"It looks like this one wants to fight!" he bellowed into the night sky.

The small crowd laughed louder, clearly not concerned about attracting the infected. Carol was never one for being brave, but being laughed at made her blood boil.

"Let me go!" Carol demanded while trying to shake her arm free of the man's paw.

Looking down at her, the man stopped laughing but kept the big dirty grin on his face.

"You ain't goin' nowhere. You think we're stupid or somethin'? Tiptoeing around here trying to take what's ours. Hell no, lady".

Carol frantically tried to reason, "I wasn't trying to steal anything. I was looking for a place to stay for a couple days. I saw these houses and thought they were abandoned. I just needed a place to sleep!"

The man leaned so close to Carol's face that she could smell his breath pass over rotted teeth as he spoke, "You expect me to believe that two of you show up only hours apart and you ain't after the same thing? I wasn't born yesterday, ya little bitch!"

The man emphasized the last word with the back of his hand across her face so hard it sent her spinning to the ground.

Carol stayed down and held her cheek as the sharp sting faded into a mild throb. She watched as the group of men eyed her and discussed what to do. A few men wanted to execute her and some wanted to do worse. The man responsible for Carol's fresh injury was clearly the leader. He raised his hand to silence the rest of the group.

He spoke without taking his eyes off Carol. "We caught one and then they sent this lil' piece after him. We have no idea how many more are gonna come lookin' for these two. Lock her up with him and get back into place in case more come during the night. We need to be ready. When we're in the clear, we'll decide what to do with the lot of 'em."

The crowd nodded in agreement and began to disperse back into hiding. Two men came forward, grabbed Carol under the arm on each side, and yanked her to her feet. She was all but dragged to another cellar where two men already had the door open and waiting. She was tossed down the steps and landed hard on her hands and knees, barely able to keep her face from striking the floor. The metal door slammed behind her and locked. This room was much larger than the one she was originally in. There were multiple cots, a trough sink, and a bare light bulb dangling in the middle of the room. The light gently swayed as Carol's eyes caught the form of a man slumped under the sink.

She approached the man slowly, not knowing what to expect. As she got closer, she could see that his hands were cuffed behind his back and around the base of the sink. The man sat crumpled and motionless, but his chest continued to rise and fall.

She gingerly touched the man's shoulder and tried to wake him.

"Are you okay?" Carol asked with concern.

The man made some slight movement but didn't fully wake up. Certain that he was in the same situation that she was, Carol nudged him again and spoke louder.

"Are you hurt?" Carol's voice echoed.

The man's head shot up and smacked the bottom of the sink. His eyes became frantic and landed on Carol. He scrambled to get away from her and used his free legs to kick.

Dodging out of reach, Carol held her hands up in front of her trying to indicate that she wasn't the enemy.

"Calm down! I'm not here to hurt you. It's okay. It's okay." She was trying to sooth him as best she could.

Looking her up and down, the man finally spoke, "Who are you?"

"My name is Carol. The men upstairs threw me down here. I'm guessing you want to be here about as much as I do. What's you name?"

"Rick Grimes. And no, I don't want to be down here."

Carol nodded her head, confident that she had found an ally.

"I was just walking through looking for a place to rest for a couple nights, maybe even find some food. I was peeking in a window and then I woke up in a cellar." Carol explained.

"How long have you been down here for?" Rick asked Carol.

"Well, I just got down here. I was in a different room before."

Rick wasted no time starting the interrogation.

"Tell me everything. Do you know where that other room was? Did you see any other people being held captive? Did you see any other underground entrances? How many men were out there? Did they have any weapons? How many people are in your group?"

Carol fumbled over her words trying to give the best answers. "I think there are around ten guys up there. I didn't see anyone else, but I think they must have more space to lock people up if they needed to. They think I was sent to find you and are preparing for more of your people to come. They plan to catch them too."

Rick continued to grill her, "Where is your group at now? How many are there? Do they know where you are?"

Carol was surprised when her eyes welled up. "I don't have anyone with me. I never have. No one is coming for me."

Rick didn't show any emotional response to her words, but he spoke very matter-of-fact. "You help get me outta here, and you can join my group. They're good people."

Carol decided it was her turn for questions.

"How did they get you? What are you doing down here?"

Rick explained that his group was staying at a house out in the country. Several men showed up one night and attacked. They were able to fend them off, but not before losing several vital supplies including a bag of medicines and several weapons. Rick and a woman name Michonne had tracked the men and intended to get their stuff back. Rick stepped in some sort of snare and the group rushed him. He assumed that Michonne realized how outnumbered she was and went back to get help.

Carol sat in silent awe as Rick finished his story. Never had she come across a group that worked together in the way he was describing. Just like Carol, they were looking for a place to call home. They wanted to live, not just survive.

Carol thought for a few minutes, swallowed hard, and made a proposition to Rick, "I will help you get out of here if you help me do the same. As far as joining your group goes, I'll meet them. But you need to know that I am not anyone's property. We don't owe each other anything. If they turn out to be terrible people, I reserve the right to walk away unharmed. Deal?"

Rick looked her square in the face and nodded, "Deal."

Time seemed to crawl by. Carol found an empty bottle and made sure both she and Rick stayed hydrated. The next day, the men brought a half-sandwich and a can of pop for each of their captives. As soon as the door closed, a smile slowly spread across Rick's face.

"That was mistake number one", Rick chuckled to himself.

Carol looked at the man as though he had lost his mind. "You gonna explain what's so funny or just make me sit here and guess?"

Rick reassured her, "Eat your sandwich and drink. Just don't crush the can when you're done."

As puzzled as ever, Carol followed the instructions and ate the sandwich. She drank the beverage in several quick gulps and followed it with the most unladylike belch she had ever let loose, causing her to blush.

"Okay. Done. You gonna start a can collection while we're down here?" Carol quipped.

"No, I need you to carefully tear apart the can and lay it out flat. It's going to be hard since there aren't any tools around, but you can do it. I know you can."

Carol was surprised by Rick's confidence in her. It had been years since someone had spoken to her like a competent adult. His firm, encouraging words made her not want to let him down.

It took several attempts to fully dismember the can. She even took a pretty serious cut to the forearm during the process. She wrapped her arm with a scrap of torn blanket and finished the project. Carol proudly laid out the pieces and looked at Rick expectantly, "Now what?"

"Okay, now we are going to use the flat, middle part to make a shim." Rick detailed how to fold the metal and slide it into the teeth of the cuff to cause them to unlock.

Carol had her doubts that it would work, but just like he described, the cuff popped open and Rick was free.

He slowly stood up and stretched his legs and his back. He walked around the room, ate his half of the sandwich and drank the other pop. When finished, he turned his can into a small shank. All the while, the two talked strategy about how to get out. No matter what, Rick assured her that he would get some kind of signal from his group. She doubted the people he traveled with would fight that hard to find him, but he seemed convinced.

Later that night, the door unlocked and two men started down the stairs. Rick had sat back on the floor and pretended to be cuffed. Just as the men hit the bottom step, there was an audible scuffle up top and the door slammed shut.

Obviously not understanding what was happening, the two men turned, ran up the steps and began banging on the door for someone to let them out.

Rick lifted his head and nodded at Carol, indicating it was time to fight.

Rick stood up and took the stairs two at a time and sunk the shard of can into the neck of one of the men. All three at the top of the stairs lost their balance and tumbled backwards. The fight was a confused mass of blood and swinging limbs.

The man that took the initial stab to the neck finally succumbed to his injuries and fell dead, leaving just Rick and the second man to wrestle it out. The man was significantly larger than Rick and he was able to flip him onto his back. The man straddled his chest and used his legs to pin Rick's arms to his sides. Pulling a large hunting knife from his back pocket, the man smiled and prepared to bring the fight to an end. Carol didn't know what else to do, so she lunged at the man with everything she had.

Just as she tackled him from the side, the sharp pain of a crossbow bolt hit her upper arm with such force that it knocked her to the ground. That was all the advantage Rick needed to get out from under the hulking man.

Carol heard a muffled curse from the top of the stairs where the door was now open.

She saw the outline of a man and heard his gruff voice, "Shit!"

The man leapt to the bottom of the stairs, kicked Rick's attacker in the chest, held up a crossbow, and planted an arrow right through his eye.

Carol was still on the ground grasping at her arm. The injury wasn't life threatening, but her body had run out of energy and she was fading fast.

The man with the crossbow moved to Rick and helped him up. They shared a knowing look and patted each other on the shoulder. Rick looked over to Carol on the floor and squatted down next to her.

"You okay?" Rick asked.

The other man stayed back, clearly frustrated that he had hurt her. "I didn't mean to hit ya. I was aimin' for the guy but you knocked him outta the way."

"Carol, this here is Daryl.", Rick added, "He's family. You can trust him."

Carol couldn't think of anything to say, so she simply nodded.

Rick stood up straight and spoke a few quiet words to Daryl. With another brotherly pat to the shoulder, Rick took off up the stairs to see if there was any fighting left to do.

Daryl stepped forward and looked down at her. They locked eyes and Carol found that she couldn't look away and apparently neither could he. After a few moments that felt like eternity and without taking his eyes off her, Daryl reached his hand out to help her up and she took it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Again, this is my first fic. It doesn't read super smooth, but we all gotta start somewhere, right?**

 **Also, Caryl, cuz that's my jam.**

Carol emerged from the cellar with Daryl right behind her making sure she didn't miss a step. She could see Rick and a woman dragging dead bodies into a heap. There was another woman exiting a dingy house with supplies and dropping them into sorted piles on the forest floor.

Daryl left Carol's side long enough to head to one of the piles and rummage through for several minutes before he emerged with makeshift bandages. He walked back and placed his hand on the small of her back to wordlessly guide her to a large fallen tree. He nodded for her to sit as he did a quick scan of the tree line. Finding the area safe for the time being, he straddled the tree trunk and scooted close to Carol's injured arm where the hunter's bolt was still imbedded in her upper arm.

Daryl set his crossbow down and began examining her. Even though it was a full moon, he had to squint his eyes to see her injury clearly. He held her upper arm in one hand and carefully secured his grip around the arrow. Before pulling, Daryl found her eyes to let her know her was going to remove the foreign object. Steeling herself with false confidence, Carol looked right in his eyes, gave a firm nod, and picked a spot on the ground to focus on.

With one quick movement, Daryl pulled the bolt from her arm. Carol lurched forward and, despite her attempts to keep quiet, she let out a faint yelp. Daryl wiped the blood from the arrow on his pants and placed it in the quiver of the crossbow.

"Sorry", he mumbled.

The two sat in silence while he used both hands to hold firm pressure on her arm to slow the bleeding. He eventually packed the wound and wrapped her arm up tight before placing it in an improvised sling. He checked over his work one more time before standing up and joining the female that was sorting through the newly acquired supplies.

Carol watched in awe as the four worked through the scene with quick precision. They didn't move like a team as much as they did a machine. No one spoke; they didn't need to. They weaved in and out of each other like they've been doing this very thing their entire lives.

What really amazed Carol was that the rescue party was so small. Rick had told her there were a dozen people in his group, but only three had shown up to save him. More importantly, they only _needed_ three people to take down the almost dozen men that held her and Rick captive. The more she thought about the number difference, the more she anxious she became about her new affiliation with this group.

When everyone finished, Rick approached Carol and propped his boot on the tree trunk to tighten the laces while he spoke.

"I made it out of that room alive and you were a part of that. I'm a man of my word. You wanna come with us?" Rick finished with his boot and stood straight up, looking down at Carol, waiting for an answer.

"I'd being lying if I said I wasn't at least a little bit nervous. You still promise to let me leave unharmed if I don't like it?"

Rick nodded and spoke, "I would think you're stupid if you weren't nervous. You're free to leave as long as you don't try to screw us over on your way out."

Carol gave herself a few moments to come up with reasons not to go, all of which fell short.

"I guess I'm tagging along." said Carol, forcing her sore body to stand.

Rick and Carol joined the others and they all turned and walked out of the clearing and into the woods.

Carol spent half her time watching her step and the other half evaluating her new travel companions. The person leading the march was a long-legged woman that carried some sort of Samurai sword on her back. Recalling Rick's description from down in the cellar, Carol assumed this was Michonne.

Rick was second in line and he was followed by another intense looking woman that was shouldering a sniper rifle. Carol was fourth in line with Daryl bringing up the rear. Although she never turned around to look, Carol could feel his eyes watching her. Everytime she had a slight misstep, he lunged forward and caught her just in time.

The group finally made it to through the brush and emerged about 50 yards off the back of the house. It was a large, older country home with two floors and a wrap around porch. A large man with an assault rifle was pacing the length of house with his eye on the group as they walked forward. He propped his gun against the railing and met them halfway to help carry in the goods.

Again, no words were spoken. The large man had ginger hair and a horseshoe mustache. He did a quick survey of Carol before looking over to Rick. All Rick offered was a slight nod which the ginger mimicked as a reply, then grabbed some of the haul and walked toward the house with the rest of them.

Even though it was the middle of the night, everyone was awake and awaiting their arrival. The four were greeted with hugs, handshakes, and pats on the back. The large ginger man returned to his post on the porch.

A teenage boy with shaggy hair quietly walked down the hallway with a knowing smile on his face. He gave Rick a full hug.

"I'm glad you're back, dad. You had me worried."

"I'm glad to be back, Carl. I was worried too."

The boy made a gesture towards Carol, "Who's this?"

"Everyone, this is Carol. She was taken by them too. She helped keep me alive down there and when the time came, we helped each other get out. She's gonna stay a couple nights, heal up, and we'll see how everyone is feeling after that."

No one argued.

Finally, someone addressed Carol directly.

"Hi, my name's Maggie. Looks like you're hurtin'. Want me to take a look?"

Carol instantly liked her. She was the first person who had shown her a genuine, warm smile in years. Carol gave a timid but friendly smile in return and followed Maggie's lead to sit at the kitchen table.

Maggie looked first at Carol's face. There was a noticeable bruise from where she had been backhanded to the ground by her captor.

"Well, I don't have any ice or anything for that, but I can probably get you some ibuprofen or something to help with the pain."

Maggie continued her examination by looking at the arrow puncture on her arm.

"You actually did a pretty good job bandaging this, but it's wrapped over your shirt sleeve. We need to get that off so we can clean it and dress it properly."

Not even realizing he had followed her to the table, Daryl leaned forward and helped Carol out of her shirt. She was silently praising herself for wearing a tank top layer underneath. "Actually, Daryl was the one who wrapped it up." Carol added.

Maggie arched her eyebrows and gave Daryl a surprised, yet approving look.

"Well, Dixon, we might make a nurse out you yet." Maggie teased.

Carol didn't know the man at all, but even she had to laugh when Daryl's face turned scarlet.

"Don't get too excited about me healin' people; I'm the one that shot her."

Maggie's couldn't hide her shock as she looked with wide eyes back to Carol.

Feeling bad for him, Carol came to his defense, "It wasn't his fault. He was trying to save Rick and I got in the way."

"Wasn't like that. I shoulda been more careful." Daryl quickly replied.

A smile crawled up Maggie's face until she was grinning like a clown. She returned to cleaning Carol's upper arm, when she noticed a gash on her forearm of the same side.

"Jesus, Daryl, you do that too?"

All three focused on the cut that was oozing blood.

Carol interjected, "Rick needed me to tear apart a can so I could help break him out of the cuffs. I cut myself, but I didn't think it was that bad. It stopped bleeding awhile ago."

Maggie began dabbing at the the cut, "My guess is that it had clotted off with your sleeve stuck to it and when we peeled off your shirt, it reopened the whole thing. You need stitches."

Panic caused a lump to form in Carol's throat. "Stitches? Can you do that? Are you a doctor? Is it safe?" Her eyes were darting between Maggie and Daryl pleading for answers.

"Well, I'm not a doctor, but I used to help my dad and he was a veterinarian. I've done sutures on a few people here. It didn't look pretty, but it worked. I have some fishing line I can use and since we got our meds back from those backwoods jerks, I can give you some antibiotics." Maggie hesitated before continuing.

"The only thing I don't have is something to numb the area."

Carol couldn't hide the fear on her face. She had plenty of practice healing without seeking medical attention. The few times Ed did real damage, she had to figure out how to fix herself using some old boy scout manuals. But even that was mostly bruises, sprains, and the occasional minor burn.

Maggie put her hands on each side of Carol's face and forced her to make eye contact.

"I know it seems intense, but you can do this. You took a bolt from a crossbow and lived to tell the tale. If you can make it through that, a dozen stitches should be a walk in the park. You can do this. Okay?"

Carol took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "Okay".

Maggie dug around and found all the materials she needed and began setting up for the quick procedure. Just before she placed the needle to her skin, Maggie reaffirmed Carol. "We'll be done in five minutes. You never think you can do something like this 'til you've done it. You're gonna be fine. Promise." And with that, Maggie pierced the skin and Carol's body tensed hard.

Seeing her struggle, Daryl quickly pulled up a chair on Carol's other side and scooted close. He grabbed her hand and held it firm in his as his other arm draped across the back of her chair to give her far shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze. Even though their hands were locked tight, he was ever so softly grazing his thumb over her knuckles in an attempt to comfort her.

She wasn't sure if it was pain from the stitches pulling her flesh together, or if it was the electricity shooting through her body from Daryl's touch, but a visible shiver ran up her spine and caused her to hang her head and close her eyes.

Watching her body shudder caused concern to wash over Daryl's face. He leaned his head so close to hers that his forehead was almost resting on her temple when his deep voice reached her ear.

"My older brought Merle watched me get stitches once when I was jus' a kid. They let some rookie student doctor give it a try and he kept messin' up. My brother laughed his ass off the whole time. Fucker thought it was the funniest damn thing he ever saw."

Carol burst out with laughter.

Daryl continued with a slight smile, "I'm serious. The nurse had to kick his ass outta the room. Still got the scar to prove it."

Carol lifted her head up just enough to make eye contact with Daryl and give him an appreciative smile.

They both shifted their gaze to what Maggie was doing and watched her finish. The stitches weren't perfectly straight and there would certainly be a scar, but Maggie had done a good job. She finished wrapping and taping Carol's forearm as she spoke, "If you decide to stay, we will cut the stitches out in ten days; that will hurt way less than me putting 'em in. Here is what we have for antibiotics. I know it's not your prescription, but a lot of that stuff is kinda the same. Just follow the directions on the label until their gone. Looks like there's about five days worth left in the bottle. Other than that, just take it easy with the arm."

Carol issued a series of heartfelt apologies for using up their supplies and thanks for her help. Maggie dismissed it all and assured her it was fine. She cleaned everything up and wished Carol and Daryl goodnight as she walked up the stairs to bed.

Once Maggie was out of sight, Carol turned to Daryl and spoke with quiet sincerity, "I like her; she seems nice."

Daryl gave a relaxed nod as his response. She followed his gaze down to see that he was still holding her hand, massaging it with his. He didn't even seem to realize he was doing it. He just sat close and slowly traced a pattern down her thumb, up around to her index finger and back. Carol loved the warm sensation it was sending through her body. No one had ever touched her with such care.

The two stayed in that trance, watching him rub her knuckles until someone upstairs coughed in their sleep, shaking the two from their daze. Daryl dropped Carol's hand instantly and stood up.

"Sorry, I wasn't payin' attention," Daryl blushed hard at his own words and slowly backed out of the room without making eye contact, "You should go to sleep. There's a big bed in the basement that I don't think anyone's claimed yet. Should give ya lots of privacy. Yours if you want it"

And with that, Daryl was out of view.

Carol felt stupid for getting caught up in something so trivial as someone holding her hand. Doing her best to shake it away, she found her way to the basement. It was a large open space filled with boxes and old furniture. In the back corner was a modest, bedroom-like set up. There was a queen bed, a trunk at the end of the bed, and a nightstand with a small lamp.

Digging through the trunk, Carol produced two pillows and a blanket that miraculously weren't caked in dust. She took her shoes off and crawled into bed. As she quickly fell into a deep sleep, she swore she could still feel the residual warmth from Daryl's touch.


	5. Chapter 5

Carol' chest rose and fell with deep sleep as the sun came up and the household came to life. Despite the sound of heavy boots and doors slamming, she didn't wake up until someone gave her a hard shove.

"Careful, Rosita ! Her arm is hurt." Maggie scolded the young woman.

Carol dragged her eyelids open to find the two young women arguing while looking her over.

"We tried to wake her up your way, the nice way, and it didn't work. What else was I supposed to do?" Rosita rebutted with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

Maggie gave her a disapproving look and sat on the edge of the bed while Rosita stood over them with her hands on her hip.

"Hey, you've been sleeping all day," Maggie explained, "It's already late afternoon. I figured you at least needed to wake up to take your antibiotics and maybe some more ibuprofen. It's important to stay ahead of the pain."

Rosita chimed in, "No one saw you come up and we were afraid you were dead."

Maggie reached sideways and smacked Rosita's leg.

Carol slowly shook away the sleep and sat up in bed. "Yea, I'll get up. I didn't realize it was so late. Do you guys have, um, a...bathroom...area…..or something?"

Rosita decided it was time to get moving so she cut Maggie off with a whirlwind of explanations.

"The toilets here work, but you have to pour water into the back part, the tank, before it will flush. The showers and sinks don't work, but there are several small ponds and creeks in the area that we can take you to. But with that bum arm and fresh stitches, you should probably just use a rag to wash up here. There isn't any electricity, obviously, so we try to get as much done as possible during the day so we can conserve candles and batteries and stuff."

With that, Rosita dropped her hands from her hips and looked at Maggie, "It's my shift to run watch. You know where to find me." And with that, the lively young woman turned on heel and lightly jogged up the stairs.

Maggie sighed and looked back at Carol. "That tornado of personality is Rosita. You'll get used to her. If you stick around, that is." Maggie said the last part more like a question.

"Well, so far your group saved me from backwater militiamen, gave me a bed to sleep in undisturbed for way longer than I should've, and I didn't wake up with a knife in my back. I think it's safe to say we started off strong." Carol grinned.

Maggie gave her another full, genuine smile and laughed.

"I'll let you wake up and move around. The bathroom is upstairs in the hallway, first door on your left. If you need me, I'll be doing inventory with Eugene in the kitchen." She gave Carol a reassuring pat on the knee and went upstairs.

Carol spent a few more minutes sitting in bed and thinking about her new surroundings. She liked the people she met so far, but didn't want to get her hopes up. However, this group had shown her more kindness in last 24 hours than she had experienced all together in the last decade of her life. She was desperate for this to be the real deal.

She decided it wouldn't hurt to give them a chance, but she would always have an exit plan in case things went bad.

Carol entered the bathroom upstairs and found that there were already several buckets of water for the toilet and whatever else people might need. There was small window that faced a field and a gravel road in the distance. Carol praised herself silently.

 _This is good. Memorize the house and the landscape. There's a small window in here, but you could squeeze through if you had to._

She finished in the bathroom and moved towards the front of the house. The hallway opened up to a large living room complete with fireplace. There was a healthy stack of wood in the corner to keep the flames going at night. The cushioned seating area under the large bay window was being used to dry weapons and guns parts after being cleaned. There was a coffee table with a variety of electronic pieces arranged in a way that Carol didn't even try to understand. The west side of the room displayed a larger version of what could be seen from the bathroom window. Out the front of the house was a significant amount field and a paved county highway about a half mile out.

Again, she made mental notes.

 _A lot of windows up here. If I ever have to leave out the front, someone is probably gonna see me and if they want to shoot me, they're gonna have a clear shot._

Turning to her left, Carol was back at the kitchen table where she received her stitches the night before. Maggie was sitting and offered Carol a quick smile before returning to the pen and notebook in front of her. The kitchen was a large galley space with a window above the sink facing east. Out the window was a small barn and sparse gravel driveway with a variety of parked vehicles. The barn doors were open and Carol could just see Daryl inside, cleaning an animal carcass.

He sat on a stool low to the ground and was cutting the meat into large pieces. He kept his head so low that his shaggy bangs fell over his eyes, blocking a complete view of his face. Carol strained her neck and put every ounce of focus into her eyes to get a better look.

"Cream corn"

Carol jumped back and turned to face a man well within her personal space holding an unmarked can.

"After much analysis I have found this can most likely contains cream corn. You can have this can of potential cream corn if you would like."

Maggie spoke up, "Carol, this is Eugene. We are in the middle of taking inventory. When they found you and Rick, they also found a bunch of food."

Shifting her look to the loud, socially clumsy man, "Eugene, we need to make a complete list of all the food we have before we start opening cans of corn."

"Cream corn. Potentially." he responded.

She smiled as if humoring a child, "Alright. I will write that down in the 'Probably Cream Corn' column."

Maggie gestured for Carol to sit down next to her. "Let me show you how I'm doing this. We write down what we have, how much, and when it expires if the package says. We're not above eating something that's past it's printed date, believe me. Hell, I don't even know exactly what day it is anyways. But if we have to choose between green beans that expire in a month versus peas that expire in a year, we eat the beans. With me so far?"

Carol confirmed she understood as Maggie continued, "Daryl goes hunting almost everyday. He uses his crossbow and a series of snares. Don't ask me where the traps are; I have no idea. Just be careful going into the woods. Anyways, he brings a variety of fresh meat and we eat that first leaving the nonperishables for a rainy day, so to speak. Besides, protein can be hard to come by."

Eugene yelled from the cupboard at the far end of the kitchen, "Ten cans of peaches". He then carried the cans and spilled them on the table in front of Maggie.

"Did you know that peaches are taxonomically classified in the rose family, Rosaceae?"

Maggie checked the cans for outdates, "Everyone knows that Eugene; we're in Georgia".

"I see your point. I will continue my work in the pantry" and with that, he walked to the back of the kitchen.

Rick came through the front door with Michonne right behind him, discussing how they could better secure the property. Rick walked to the dead refrigerator and pulled out four bottles of water while Michonne took a seat directly across from Carol. Sitting down in front of Maggie, he gave everyone a bottle.

Despite having an extremely serious look to her face, Michonne politely introduced herself to Carol. "Rick told me about what happened to you two down in that cellar. Thanks for helping to bring him back to us."

"Really, Rick and you guys did all the saving. I just stood by and waited until the coast was clear."

Michonne didn't approve of her answer. "If Rick said you helped, then you helped. There's no room for modesty in this world. And speaking of places in this world, it's probably time for you to tell us a bit about yourself."

Carol didn't know how much of her previous life she wanted to divulge. The outbreak gave her the blank slate she had always wanted. The thought of defining herself as an abused housewife with no real skills wasn't appealing. But Michonne's eyes had her pinned down, so lying didn't seem like a great idea either.

"I'm a housewife from southern Georgia. My husband was at work when all hell broke loose and one of those things almost made it's way into my house. I didn't know what else to do so I ran. I don't have any family to speak of or really any destination in mind, so I just started walking north. Been doing that since day one."

Michonne had questions. "Did you ever find your husband?"

Carol looked at her hands and chose her words carefully, "I never saw him again after that first day".

Michonne followed up again, "Rick told me you didn't have a group. When was the last time you traveled with someone? Do you know where they were headed or what happened with them before you got separated?"

"I _never_ had a group. I've always been by myself."

The two women and Rick all looked stunned.

"That's really impressive that you made it this whole time on your own. The dead are everywhere now, not just the cities. And the living are far more dangerous." Michonne spoke.

"Tell me about it", Carol replied while running her hand through her hair, "I've had a few less than friendly run ins with others. But those guys in the woods last night were the worst yet. Every other encounter I've had has been a random smash and grab type of attack. Not those men, they were organized."

The discussion continued at the table until the sun started to set. More people were bustling around the first floor and coming inside for the evening. Even though Carol felt useless with her arm, she asked Maggie if there is anything she could do to help get things set for the night.

A mischievous smile played across Maggie's face, "You know, I think Daryl is out in the barn getting supper ready. Why don't you go see if he needs help." And with that, Carol was left in the kitchen alone.

Tentatively walking out the front door, Carol passed Rosita patrolling around the house.

"I see you're finally up. Leaving already?" Rosita inquired.

"No, Maggie told me I should go help get dinner ready in the barn."

"Thank God! Go make sure Daryl doesn't burn it. He overcooks everything." And with that, Rosita strode past and continued scanning the distance for threats.

Carol approached the barn to find that there was a makeshift fire pit set up just outside the open doors. There were several chunks of meat cooking on a jury rigged grill and the smell made her mouth water.

Daryl was tending to the meat and getting the next round ready to cook. Carl was sitting on a round stool next to him and lightly swiveling back and forth while watching the man work.

Carl looked up as Carol approached and lifted his hand as a greeting. "I heard Daryl shot you. How's your arm?" She swore she could see the grown man wince at the mention of her injuries.

Carol smiled at the boy and responded, "It was an accident. And actually my arm is feeling pretty good. Sore, but good."

Dary lowered his head even further and grumbled to himself. He stacked the cooked meat in a large bowl, thrust it onto Carl's lap, and pushed him up off his seat towards the house. "Try not to spill it." He then started putting the remainder of the raw meat on the grill. Between the sound of the sizzling and the smell of the juice hitting the open flame, Carol almost drooled.

When the boy was in the house, Daryl finally addressed Carol's presence. "Rosita's fulla shit. I never burnt anything. She likes her meat so rare, I might as well not even cook it. I should jus' throw the carcass at her feet and let her go at it."

Carol laughed and sat on the stool next to Daryl. "So, you heard that all the way over here, huh?" she asked.

Daryl snorted his reply, "She ain't exactly quiet."

Carol chuckled at the comment, which helped Daryl visibly relax a bit more.

"So far I've heard you called a nurse, a hunter, and now I see you're a chef. Anything you can't do?"

"Well, I never been real good at math." Daryl smirked to himself.

Carol couldn't help but laugh again. "Me either. Besides, your skills seem far more useful than crunching numbers. Where did you learn how to do all this?"

"My dad mostly. We weren't what you would call 'city folks'. Soon as me and my older brother were big enough to handle guns without the recoil knockin' us over, we were pretty much on our own."

Carol couldn't help but notice the vaguely sad tone in his voice. "What happened to your brother? Your family?"

Daryl left his eyes on the flames as he absently turned the meat on the grill. "Mom died when I was jus' a kid, then dad died when I was a teenager. Was just me and my brother for a long time. When the world went to shit, I was cornered by a buncha those undead assholes at a gas station. My brother jumped in and saved my ass, but he didn't make it out."

Carol felt her eyes welling up and a tight pulling in her chest, "Daryl, I'm so sorry. I didnt mean to pry. It wasn't my place to ask."

Daryl sucked in some air and looked at her. "S'alright. It's just life. Everyone's lost someone these days. What about you?"

Carol studied the fire, "I have a husband. _Had_ a husband. Everything happened so fast. I just grabbed a bag and ran out of the house."

"You ever find out what happened to him?"

"No," Carol scoffed, "I saw my chance to get out from under his thumb so I took it and never looked back."

The words were out of Carol's mouth before she even knew she had been thinking them. Realizing the words that had come tumbling out unguarded, Carol sat up straight and quickly tried to pull together an explanation.

"I mean, he was at work when it all happened. I just- he wasn't home yet is all. There were these woods- this guy at my kitchen window." She tripped over her panicked words, knowing they were less than convincing and finally giving up.

Daryl was looking at her intensely as the light from the flames danced across his furrowed brow. He seemed to be searching her face for clues. His stare bore straight through her and she focused on the gravel at her feet, shifting it around with the toe of her shoe.

After several painfully silent moments, Daryl spoke "Hand me that plate next to you; the meats done."

Letting out the breath she didn't know she had been holding, Carol handed him the plate. After gathering the cooked meat, He stood up over the flames and extinguished them by kicking rocks and dust over the pit.

With the fire out, Carol realized the sun had vanished and it was now dark. Holding the plate of food, Daryl reached down with his free hand to help Carol up. As Carol popped to her feet, she found herself standing less than a foot away from him and he made no move to back up. They held each others gaze in the dark not saying a word. Standing that close, she could feel his body heat reaching her in comforting waves. She looked down and realized that for the second day in a row, Daryl had forgotten to let go of her hand.

Their fingers were intertwined and the warmth of his solid grip slowly worked it's way up her arm causing the back of her neck to tingle. The two looked down at their connected hands in silence; neither wanting to let go.

A quick, stiff breeze passed through and the shock of it caused them to pull apart. Between the cold night air and the devastating loss of his body heat, a shiver ran through her body so hard her teeth almost chattered.

His face was suddenly a shroud of concern. Daryl stepped to the side and put his free hand on her back to guide her around the fire pit and towards the house. "You're gonna catch your death of cold out here. Gotta get you inside. Can't have you sick for tomorrow."

Carol gave him a questioning look.

He answered, "I'm taking you out huntin' with me."


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning for graphic domestic violence and language.**

The next morning, Daryl escorted Carol to the edge of the woods just as dawn was breaking. No one else in the house was awake except for Sasha who happened to be on watch. They both gave her a quiet nod and walked into the tree line to hunt.

After walking for an hour, the two entered a small clearing where Daryl sat on a rock and gestured for Carol to sit on a neighboring tree stump. He pulled from his pack an assortment of tools and weapons. There was a handgun with a silencer attachment, knives and hatchets of varying sizes, and a bundle of wire.

They huddled over the equipment as he carefully explained how to build a snare. Carol found that Daryl was as patient as he was skilled. She was never very crafty or someone who spent time outdoors, but after several attempts and with Daryl's guidance, she successfully built her first small trap.

Daryl and Carol took her snare, plus several he made in the same amount of time, and walked through the forest looking for evidence of life. He explained how to tell which trees probably had squirrels and the best places to set up in hopes of catching one. Once they were all positioned, the only thing left was to wait and check back later.

Daryl filled the spare time by showing her simple tracking techniques for larger animals like deer or wild hogs. He didn't actually plan on hunting big game, but he felt it important for her to know the basics.

The two discussed what types of animals were in these parts of the state, and what could be found in more mountainous areas. He taught her what types of traps work for different animals explaining how building an amazing trap big enough for a black bear wasn't going to help her catch a small raccoon.

Carol was rapt with attention. She hung onto each syllable and did her best to remember every detail. No one in her adult life had ever taken the time to slowly and calmly teach her something totally new.

After a couple hours had lapsed, they checked the traps and found them empty. Seeing Carol's disappointment in herself, Daryl suggested they go back to the small clearing to eat, then they would check the again later.

The two settled on the ground next to each other and Daryl produced a few protein bars and a large bottle of water. Carol was tired and her arm was still sore, but she felt like she had learned some really valuable skills. She was picking at her food when Daryl broke the silence.

"Last night at the barn, you said you had to get out from under your husband's thumb. What'd ya mean by that?"

Carol looked up in obvious surprise at the question. His face was calm and relaxed, but his eyes were probing her for an answer. Not knowing what to say, Carol swallowed hard and played with a leaf next to her leg. She did her best to keep her voice steady and chose her words carefully.

"I was just tired is all, and my mouth was running without my brain attached. I wasn't trying to-"

"What did you mean by it?" Daryl cut her off.

Again, she paused before answering.

"My husband, Ed, was a very... _intense_ man. He was a man that liked routine and structure in all aspects of his life. He needed things to be just right." She could taste the bile rising at the sound of her own words. Ed had always treated her like a servant more than a wife. She didn't understand her own compulsion to defend him, or better yet, why she thought he _deserved_ to be defended.

Daryl gently persisted, "What happened if things weren't 'just right'?"

Carol was frustrated by the questions, but even more so with herself for not just being honest with him, and Daryl could see it all. The inner conflict was written all over her face.

Daryl dug in the dirt with a small stick and began telling her a story.

"When I was jus' a kid, my mom died from an overdose. Her and my old man got drunk and were screamin' and throwin' things 'til he got in his truck and left. My brother knew I had a hard time being around all that, so he took me outside to play and run around and shit. When we came home, we found her dead on the couch in front of a table covered in them lil plastic bags, but they were all empty."

Carol couldn't take her eyes off the man before her. He was one of the toughest people she had ever met, and all she wanted to do was hold him and tell him everything would be okay. Afraid he would stop talking, Carol sat perfectly still and watched him continue playing with the stick.

"After that, my old man was worthless. He was never around and when he was, he was drunk or high or both. Merle took most of the beatings, but after a couple years he took off and I was stuck behind. My dad was alone and pissed off and had no one else to take it out on. My brother came back one night and found me passed out on the couch. I was all busted up with broken ribs, a big cut on my side, and had a bunch of bruises. Right then and there, Merle went in the back, woke the piece of shit up, and they fought like animals. Merle got him down on the ground, stood over him, and bashed his head with one of those old, heavy ashtrays. Man never got back up."

Carol was frozen in place. A few tears had quietly run unchecked down her face. When she was positive he was done with his story, she spoke in slow whisper.

"The time you got stitches and your brother laughed…"

Daryl nodded in confirmation. "That was the night my old man died. I think Merle was just trying to make me laugh or take my mind of things or somethin', but the hospital people weren't having any of it."

Carol was still afraid to speak above a whisper, "What did you do after that?"

"Me and Merle just hung out and did whatever we felt like. We didn't go to school. Sometimes my brother had a job, sometimes he didn't. He took to drinking and drugs like my folks, but never as bad. He was a tough, mean son of a bitch, but he was my only blood and he was loyal to the very end."

Carol didn't have a response. She just sat wide-eyed and heart torn for the broken man in front of her. Just as he sensed her pity, Daryl set her straight.

"I didn't tell you that stuff to make you feel sorry for me. Nobody got time to be feeling sorry for themselves nowadays. When the world went and got all fucked up, a lot of people thought life was just over. But people like me, and I'm guessin' people like you, we got a new life. Probably a better one than we had before."

Carol wanted to tell him that she understood, but all the words and phrases she could think of seemed small and inadequate. Not knowing what else to do, she reached down and slowly rolled up her pant leg. She had a map of scars on the outside of her calf that trailed down past the top of her shoe.

When Daryl's eyes settled on the old wounds, his jaw set firm and his eyes grew dark.

"It was Ed's birthday and I was making his favorite dinner of fried chicken. He was mad that I wasn't making mashed potatoes to go with it, so he threw the pan from the stove to the ground. I was wearing a sundress and the hot oil splashed all over my leg. The burning pain was like nothing I'd ever felt and I didn't know what to do. I laid there, screaming and crying, and all he did was shake his head and leave me on the floor. He just looked so….pleased. Like I had finally gotten what I deserved."

Daryl reached over and carefully rolled her pant leg down. They sat there for several minutes in silence, their brains churning with emotion and memories.

Daryl leaned close and spoke like he was telling her a secret. "People look at you and me and they think we're the victim or that we're weak or somethin'. They try to scare us and look down on us. But we don't gotta be scared any more; I know I'm not. We're fighters. We're survivors. All those people that thought we were nothing, they're dead, and here we are, livin' and breathin'. Fuck 'em all."

Carol felt her eyes begin to well up again, but this time she had a smile to go with them. Daryl's words were now and forever would be buried deep inside her. He got it. He understood. He was an ally. He was a friend.

By the time the two walked towards the house with their fresh kills in tow, it was early evening. Daryl tried to send Carol in to get cleaned up and rest while he prepped the squirrels, but she wanted to see the hunt through to the very end.

Carol watched Daryl skin and gut the animals, explaining the steps to her along the way. She was a bit squeamish and had to look away at times, but Daryl just smiled to himself and kept working methodically.

Since there wasn't enough meat for a full meal, the two hunters went into the kitchen and presented their efforts to Maggie and her husband Glenn. Daryl spoke favorably of Carol's hunting and trapping potential to the young couple. Even though Carol suspected the praise was exaggerated, the two seemed pleased with her progress. Daryl and Carol left the meat with Maggie to work her magic while they went to clean up.

For the first time, Carol was inside the house during dinner time and she had the opportunity to meet all the residents. She had spent plenty of time with Daryl, Maggie, and Michonne. She already met Rick's son Carl, but was surprised to see that the group leader also had small daughter, Judith. Abraham sat next to Rosita with one arm casually draped over her shoulders, while Sasha and her brother Tyreese were on her other side. The only person missing was Glenn, who had dragged Eugene outside to help patrol.

Maggie used a couple cans of vegetables, some water, and the fresh meat to make a pretty decent stew. There were several quiet conversations going on amongst the group as they ate. Watching everyone live and interact in this bizarre family gave Carol a sense of peace and hope. It was then that she decided she would be staying with them as long as they would have her.

Rick, Carl, and Tyreese did the dishes while Maggie sat with Carol at the kitchen table and redid her bandages. It wasn't until Maggie finished and left that Carol realized she was absolutely exhausted. She said her goodnights and went down to the basement bedroom.

Just as she was burrowing under the covers, she heard the basement door open and saw a small light come through. After only a couple days, Carol could sense his presence. The sound of his boots, the rhythm of his stride, and the change of the energy in the air let her know it was Daryl.

He placed the light on her nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, "I just wanted you to know that your secret is safe with me. I won't tell no one about your husband or any of that. I know you wouldn't tell people my stuff; I wanna make sure you know I won't tell people yours."

Carol's curiosity rose, "How do you know I won't tell anyone? I mean, I definitely won't, but what makes you so sure?"

Daryl thought for several beats and answered with a shrug. "You're a good person. We may be different people from different places, but we're both dealin' with the same shit"

Accepting his answer, Carol laid her head back and studied his face. Sensing it was time to go, Daryl said goodnight and went up the stairs. Just before he reached the door, Carol called out to him.

"Can I come hunting with you again?"

"Yea…." Daryl's mouth turned up at the corner trying to hide his smile even though she couldn't see him. "...Yea."

He exited the basement and left her to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Carol spent the next several days attached to Daryl's hip. They went out hunting and trapping every day, all day. Daryl probably wouldn't admit it if anyone asked, but he enjoy having her company out in the woods, even if their time together was spent in silence. He liked feeling as though he had something to offer. He was teaching her important things that no one else in the group could.

Any time Carol needed help or assistance, Daryl was right there. She never had to ask or explain herself. He always seemed to have some level of awareness in regards to what she was doing. If there was a chance she was going to drop something, fall down, or just plain didn't know what to do, Daryl was next to her before she even realized there was about to be an issue.

Eventually, Maggie cut out Carol's stitches and declared her healed. She insisted that Carol go with Rosita and Sasha down to one of the streams to clean up properly. They took turns dunking underwater and washing as best they could. While the time away from Daryl left her feeling a little more sad than she was comfortable with, Carol was pleasantly surprised with how much she was enjoying the company of the other women.

They laughed and gossiped about meaningless things like old high school boyfriends and what they miss the least from their old lives. There was no judgement of bodies, no catty comments about other females, just three women trying to clean up and ease some of the stress of their day to day lives.

The women returned in good spirits to find everyone hanging around the house. Rick had been waiting for them before starting a family meeting.

Rick began. "We haven't had a chance to talk about this because someone always seems to be gone. But now that everyone is here, we need to decide what we are going to do next. This house isn't big enough for twelve people, not in the long term. And I think we can all agree that this world isn't going back to normal anytime soon."

Carol felt a slight twinge of pain at the idea of leaving the house. After only ten days, she had grown fond of feeling both welcome, useful, and safe. She tried to keep the sadness from showing on her face as Michonne picked up the conversation.

"We've made several attempts to scout out a new location and we think we may have found a good option. There is a town about twenty miles to the northeast from here, right along the state border. They have a small retirement home that might work. It has about fifty bedrooms, a large dining/activity room, a massive food prep area, all the things you would find in a nursing home. But this one has several advantages. First, there is a small enclosed courtyard in the center. It's only about ten by fifteen feet, but we could build a fire pit in the middle and use it to cook. Second, the building itself sits on a small hill. From the roof, there is a clear line of sight in all directions. Last, there is already a large plot in the back that was used for gardening."

Whispers of excitement sprung up amongst the group. Carol seemed to be the only one wary of leaving the comfort of the large, old house. She understood the rationale behind wanting to leave, but her emotions didn't follow suit.

Glenn, Maggie, and Abraham had visited the building several times. It needed a lot of work, but the three had already cleared out all the walkers and sealed the building as best they could. There was space for everyone to spread out and then some. There was a planned community nearby that was in the early phases of construction. They could salvage supplies from there to reinforce the building and expand if they needed to.

Hearing the potential, plans were made to check the place out the next day. All but Glenn, Maggie, and Michonne drove to the town in a small caravan of vehicles. Pulling up through the roundabout driveway, a large, decorative sign stood off to the side.

 _Welcome to Briar Oak Meadows_

Stepping in the building was like walking into a disaster area. The lobby floor was gouged from where looters had dragged out furniture and other large objects. Blood and small bits of flesh were littered around the overturned tables and broken chairs. Several empty wheelchairs sat caked in blood and dust. The smell was overwhelming.

Trudging through, it looked as though the rooms were disheveled but mostly intact. Bedding and clothes were tossed about, but there was probably nothing there worth stealing in the first place. People spread throughout the building to make their evaluation. Carol finally picked a bedroom and slowly stepped in with Daryl predictably right behind her.

Nothing unusual stood out amongst the mess. A couple shirts, a knitted blanket, and several books had found their way to the floor. Carol picked up a fallen picture frame and carefully cleaned out the broken glass. The picture showed an elderly couple holding hands and smiling at the camera.

Daryl stood so close to her back, that when he peeked over her shoulder, his hair grazed the side of her face.

Carol spoke to him without turning around, "Do you think anyone will ever live this long again?"

Daryl let out a small sigh and dropped his head just enough to rest his chin on her shoulder. "I doubt it," he said, "but we gotta try I suppose. It's that or give up and die, and I ain't gonna let that happen."

Carol let out her own deep breath and set the picture down. The two stood there in silence, Daryl leaving his chin in place as they looked out the dirty window. As per usual, he could see right through her and knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Carol, I know you don't wanna leave the house. I was watchin' you in the meeting yesterday and you were the only one not jumpin' with joy like an idiot. I don't want to leave either, but we can't make a life for us there. We can't all live on top of each other like that forever. And as safe as it feels now, it ain't always gonna be like that. Eventually the cities will quiet down, then walkers and survivors are gonna come outta the woodwork."

Carol leaned her head back onto his shoulder and let out a deep, sad sigh. "I know, I was just getting used to everything not being so terrible, so hard. It's difficult to walk away from that."

Daryl nodded in silent understanding and the two stood there for another minute. He finally stood straight and gestured that it was time to move on. The two walked through the place a bit more before rejoining the group at the entrance. With the general consensus being a positive one, the group decided to start making the move the next day.

The relocation took weeks longer than anyone had anticipated. They brought only necessities from the house in the beginning. They boarded up windows and rooms not in use, and pried open others to air the place out. They spent days cleaning and organizing the building into a livable space, piece by piece. Every couple days, someone would make the trek back to continue transporting supplies. After just over a month, everything was in place as well as it could be.

Everyone picked rooms and had spread out just enough to be within earshot and eyesight. When Daryl claimed his room at the end of the hallway, he was several doors down from everyone else. The next closest person was, of course, Carol. He had taken her belongings to the room next to his without a second thought.

While they slept on the other side of the wall from each other, their days were spent apart. There was so much to do and the forest wasn't nearly as close anymore. The group couldn't afford to have two people gone all day. Neither of them were aware of it, but the daily separation left them a bit more on edge. Each night when Daryl returned, the first thing he did was put his eyes on Carol, if only for a second, to make sure she was alright.

Everyone fell into a steady rhythm around the Meadows. They found enough materials to create a small, sturdy lookout tower on the roof. The garden was cleared of overgrowth and prepped in the case that they actually found seeds to plant. The courtyard was transformed into a large, rectangular fire pit with a makeshift grill and spit. The building itself was still pretty run down and there was always something to do, fix, or build, but after months of work, Carol was happily referring to the place as home and it's new occupants as family.

Carol was assigned to the task of getting water. Every three days of so, Carol and Tyreese would take a truck to the closest stream and fill up the varying containers. She found the large man to be nothing but the world's largest, walking, talking teddy bear. It was the first brisk day of fall and the wind was unrelenting. No matter how hard she worked or how many layers she wore, Carol couldn't couldn't rid her body of the unwelcome chill. Something about the day felt different. Even with a large man like Tyreese by her side, Carol kept looking over her shoulder.

When her and Tyreese returned to the Meadows, they saw two new vehicles in the circular driveway. There was no one outside, and while she didn't have a perfect view, she couldn't see anyone keeping watch on the roof.

This didn't feel right. She could feel it in the knot of her gut and the goosebumps on her skin.

Thankfully, Tyreese noticed the same things. He exited the car first with rifle in hand. He pushed through the front door and saw everyone had gathered in the dining area. Carol quickly counted a few extra bodies and noted the new faces. Maggie walked hurriedly over to the two and explained what was going on.

A group of four men were driving north through town and saw the smoke coming from the courtyard. Michonne was on watch up top and caught them peeking through the windows, trying to check the place out. Now they were talking to Rick as he was trying to determine whether or not they had good intentions.

Daryl had spent numerous evenings showing Carol how to defend herself, but despite her training and the confidence he was helping her build, she couldn't help but ever so slightly position herself defensively behind Tyreese's large arm. The men looked rough. Their clothes were covered in dirt, sweat, and dried blood. From what she had seen of the two vehicles, the group didn't appear to have much in the way of provisions. And if they were in the middle of a long trek like they claimed to be, wouldn't they have at least a few more belongings? She couldn't shake her panicked thoughts.

 _This isn't right. None of this fits. They need to leave. I wish Daryl was here. He needs to be here. None of this is right._

Carol was certain that Maggie said there were four men, but she could only see three. Nudging Tyreese to follow her, she slowly made her way through the common areas looking for the fourth man. She stepped into the kitchen with Tyreese right behind her. After being satisfied that it was empty, the two exited through the double doors and she walked face first into the fourth man.

Carol's blood froze. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. All the sounds of conversation that had carried through the room were now falling on her deaf ears. The only thing Carol could hear was her terrified heartbeat thrumming out of control.

His face was thinner, showing evidence of weight loss. The always tight crew cut was now growing out of control. Even his icy blue eyes seemed colder than ever. But there was no mistaking the slow, contemptuous smile working it's way up Ed's face.

The last time she had seen him was the morning of the outbreak. He had called around midday to tell her they were leaving town. She never waited for him to get home; she simply grabbed her belongings and ran. Now here she was, face to face, with her husband.

The look on his face was the definition of smug. Without taking his withering eyes off Carol, he extended a hand to her and introduced himself.

"Hi, my name's Ed."

This was a game. He had obviously recognized her, but chose to toy with her instead.

Carol was completely unable to move or speak. Not understanding her reaction, Tyreese reached past her and offered his hand.

"I'm Tyreese, and this is Carol".

"Hi, Tyreese. It's nice to meet you." The sneer of victory couldn't have been any larger. "And hello to you, _Carol_." The way he emphasized her name made her skin crawl and sent a violent shiver up her back.

Just then, Rick came up behind the man and placed his hand on his shoulder. No one else noticed, but Carol could see the annoyance on his face clear as day. It was the way he had looked at her for years.

Rick spoke calmly, "Why don't we save the exploring for later. We have a lot to figure out."

Rick guided Ed back to the dining area where everyone else was waiting. Just before he was out of sight, Ed shot back a dangerous look that instilled more fear than Carol's body could handle. Tyreese stepped around and when she didn't move with him, he looked back at her questioningly.

Her voice was anything but solid, "I'll be there in a minute, Tyreese. I need to go to the bathroom."

Carol walked around the corner and broke into a dead sprint towards her room. She shut the door behind her and felt her knees give way sending her to the floor. She felt like her body was going to explode. Her adrenaline was through the roof and her breathing was erratic to say the least. She covered her mouth to try to keep from making any sounds, but the the sobs wracking her body made silence impossible.

She found a family that valued her and her opinion. They didn't treat her like the worthless housewife Ed told her she was. They treated her like an equal.

The thought of losing all that, losing her family, was absolutely devastating. Her life was hard. Her life was dirty. But her life was _hers_. And now Ed was back to rip it away. She thought the tears would never stop coming.

Her judgement clouded by grief, she dug out her old backpack and began shoving things in. She grabbed a spare change of clothes, a couple bottles of water, and the few non-perishable items she happened to have in her room. Peeking down the hallway to make sure the coast was clear, Carol snuck to an old staff breakroom that happened to have an emergency exit. She shoved through, thankful that the building's alarms had stopped working long ago. For the second time in her life, without looking back, Carol ran as fast as she could away from Ed.


	8. Chapter 8

_My New Year's resolution was to finish what I start. I began writing this story, my first fanfic ever, over a year ago. I finally saw it through to the end. The story takes some odd turns that don't quite fit and a graphic sex scene that I felt extremely awkward writing, but it is complete. I hope you enjoy it. And if you don't, let me know why. This is my first story ever. And while I'm just happy that it's done, I'm always open to constructive criticism. I love this site and reading all the amazing stories people have created. Thank you for letting me be a tiny part of that._

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Daryl walked through the front door of the Meadows to find the entire group gathered in the common area. As he did his unconscious scan for Carol, his eyes landed on unfamiliar faces. Michonne came forward to fill him in on all the new developments that took place while he was out hunting. He immediately didn't like the three new men. They spoke with too much confidence and their posture emanated arrogance. He circled around behind them to the other side of the room just in time to meet up with Rick and a fourth man.

He may have had his hand on the new guy's shoulder, but Rick was sending nonverbal cues to Daryl that he should stay on high alert. To his credit, Daryl received the unspoken message loud and clear.

Rick introduced the man as Ed. Daryl stuck out his hand for a handshake and the man took it with an unnecessarily tight grip in a passive attempt to intimidate Daryl. He didn't know why, but the man's face held a smug, nasty smile. The two men were almost exactly the same height and weight, but Daryl's size was attributed to muscles developed through years of living a hard life and this guy looked like the only thing he ever lifted was his ass off the couch.

After the curt introductions were exchanged, Daryl noted that Carol still wasn't to be seen.

"I'm gonna go find Carol" Daryl told Rick.

Daryl turned to walk away when he heard a low chuckle.

"Tell her I said 'hello" Ed spoke.

Daryl faced Ed and took a step back towards him. He tried to stand up taller with false confidence, but Daryl's unwavering glare made the man draw back ever so slightly. There was something about this newcomer that had all the alarms and sirens going off in Daryl's head. He knew guys like this. He grew up with guys like this. The bullshit bravado, all the tough talk, but when push really came to shove, they always found a way to back out.

Rick gave Ed's shoulder a squeeze and continued moving him towards the group. Leaning closer to Daryl as he walked by, Rick spoke, "Go find Carol, we don't make any decisions without her. Everyone has to be on board with this."

Again, Ed scoffed and lowered his head with a small laugh. The two men glared at him from behind. Having had enough, Daryl stepped around and got in the man's face.

"What you findin' so funny?" Daryl challenged.

Ed put his hands up in front of him and tried unsuccessfully to shake the grin off his face. "Nothing, man. Nothing." Ed tried to walk around him but Daryl side stepped and cut off his passage.

Daryl didn't accept Ed's response or his cowardly attempt to avoid the question. "You keep carryin' on like some asshole cat that caught the canary."

Ed's face grew serious, "You know what I think is funny? That you let some scarred up woman drag you around by the short ones when it should probably be the other way around."

Seeing Daryl reach his limit, Rick spun Ed around to face him and set the man straight.

"If you even consider trying to stay here, you better understand something right now; everyone pulls their weight equally. It doesn't matter 'bout someone's gender or age or background. If someone helps out, then we help them in return. Carol has proven herself to be just as valuable an asset as everyone else here. And so far, that's more than we can say for you."

Ed's face turned red with rage, but like the true coward he was, he spun and returned to the common area knowing it was a fight he couldn't win.

Rick didn't hide his irritation from Daryl. He jerked his head towards the bedrooms, sending Daryl to bring Carol to the meeting.

Daryl walked down the hallway, opening and closing his fists in an effort to pump the anger from his body. Carol's door was always open, so when he found it closed, he assumed she was changing her clothes. The thought of Carol getting undressed sent a brief, unexpected charge of heat running up the back of his neck. He shook the inappropriate thoughts away and knocked lightly on the door.

When no response came, he knocked a little louder and tried to get her attention.

"Carol? There's some stuff goin' on and we need ya out here for a meeting."

Again, no response.

Daryl knew that she never slept during the day, so he started to get worried that she might be sick. Knocking again, "Hey Carol? I'm comin' in. Just making sure you're okay. You in here?"

He slowly opened the door and cautiously poked his head in while staring at the ceiling in case she wasn't decent. The hair on his arms instantly stood on edge. Carol always kept her room as clean and organized as possible, but it now looked like a tornado hit. There was no blood or any sign of a struggle, but he couldn't keep the dred from working it's way into his bones. The bag she always took when they used to go hunting, her weapons, boots, jacket, even her secret stash of sour gummy worms - gone.

Daryl knew this scene. When his dad got extra rough with him, Daryl would tear through his room, pack what things he thought were essentials, and take off. Carol's room was an eerie echo of the aftermath of a young Dixon on the run.

He went down to the women's restroom and burst in without thinking twice. He checked every stall and inside the handicap shower. No sign of her at all.

He walked aggressively back towards the common area to see if she had maybe entered the front, checking every room on the way. His mind was racing out of control.

 _This isn't right. Carol should be here. Why isn't Carol here? Nothing about this is right_

Daryl made no attempt to hide his frustration and concern as he marched towards Rick.

"She's gone"

Rick's eyes went wide as he watched Daryl pace feverishly. "What do you mean she's gone? Who's gone?"

"Carol is gone. You sent me to get her and she's gone. Her room is all torn to shit."

Rick stood up and began trying to calm Daryl.

"She's gotta be around here somewhere. It's a big place. Did you check the courtyard?"

Tyreese looked confused "I saw her five minutes ago. She said she was going to the bathroom"

An upstart of commotion began as people scattered to find Carol. From the corner of his eye, Daryl caught a sight of Ed and the three men huddled in the chairs. Ed was talking excitedly and the others were nodding and glancing around. Finally, Ed let out a low, menacing laugh and the men smiled confidently in return.

Having had enough, Daryl approached the group and stood directly behind Ed's chair. "I don't know what plans you have goin' on over here, but it ain't happening. Grab your shit and get out; you're not staying."

Rick stepped forward with his hand resting on the gun at his hip and spoke very matter-of-factly, "I'm gonna have to agree with my brother. I think it's time for you guys to be on your way."

All four men stood and Ed turned to face Daryl.

"Just because some worked over bitch makes a run for it, we have leave? I don't think so."

Alarms were going off in Daryl's head. His face was stone as his brain worked overtime to connect the dots.

 _Scarred up. Worked over. Why did he say that? Why does this mean something? I know this. There's something here._

"Earlier you called her scarred. Hardly anyone here knew about her scars."

Ed noticed his own mistake and casually tried to backtrack. "It's the end of the fucking world, everyone has scars."

"Bullshit. What did you say to her?" Daryl hollered the last question.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've never even met this Carol woman before."

Rick stepped in, "Yes you did, that was the woman you were talking to when I found you by the kitchen."

Rick didn't fully understand the situation, but he was putting the pieces together enough to know that Carol knew this man from somewhere else.

Then a freight train of realization hit Daryl head on. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated so he could absorb every detail of the sneering man before him. Before he could think of something intimidating to say, Daryl hit Ed with the speed of a rattlesnake and the force of a bull.

Ed grabbed his jaw and stumbled backwards over some chairs. Daryl grabbed the wounded man by the shirt and yanked him up to within inches of his own face. "What the fuck did you say to her?!"

The confrontation brought people running back to the common room. Once again, the four men were greatly outnumbered.

Ed looked like a cornered animal. Wanting no part of Daryl's rage, the three men took a wary step back from Ed. While Ed's friends appeared to be ready to abandon him, Daryl's friends stood up and surrounded the group.

Without taking his eyes of Ed's, Daryl gave instructions to the group.

"I'm going to find Carol. You guys can figure out what to do with the other three, but this talking pile of shit stays. When I find her, she gets to decide what to do with this asshole."

No one fully understood what was happening or why, but when Daryl tore away through the group, they circled around the newcomers like they were cattle and stood their ground.

Daryl burst into his room and packed a small bag of provisions and supplies. He knew that Carol hadn't been gone for very long, but it was getting on into evening He was hoping that if he tracked fast he might be able to find her before it was totally dark.

Leaving out one of the emergency exits, Daryl scoured the back of the building until he found her path. She had clearly been running and made no attempt to hide her escape. After about twenty minutes of following her trail, he was pretty certain where she was headed. He started a healthy run and periodically checked the ground to make sure he was getting close. He didn't stop running until the old country house came into view.

Taking a minute to catch his breath, Daryl slowly walked up to the house. He found her fresh footsteps on the wraparound porch and followed them to the backdoor. The boards used to close up the house were partially torn away and tossed to the side. Ducking through the opening, Daryl entered the house.

He walked through and paused in front of the basement door where her dirty handprint shone as evidence on the handle. Daryl took a deep a breath and released it before opening the door. He made sure all his motions were slow and deliberate, but also loud enough so that he wouldn't startle her. Descending the staircase, there was the faint glow of a lantern in what used to be her bedroom. The only sounds were his boots on the wooden stairs and the sound of her sniffing through quiet tears.

Carol didn't need to look up from where she lay curled on the bed. She could tell from the sound of his walk and the change in the air that it was Daryl. She didn't roll over as he approached her and set down his belongings. He sat on the edge of the bed and took off his boots and removed extra layers so that he was down to his faded, gray undershirt and jeans.

Daryl stretched on his side toward Carol and wrapped his arm around her middle. He gently rolled her over, forcing her to face him. She curled around him as he held her crying face to his chest and rested his chin on the top of her head.

After a few minutes, Carol's tears began to slow and she relaxed into his hold. Daryl moved his head to look her in the eye. Despite being alone in the house, the intimacy of their position caused Daryl to speak in a whisper.

"I saw him. I hit him. The group is holding him there until we go back and tell 'em what to do with him."

Carol lowered her gaze and spoke quietly "I can't go back. I can't live with him. I can't even look at him. I know I've grown. You've made me stronger and smarter than I ever thought I could be, but just seeing his face made me feel frightened and small all over again."

Daryl went back to resting his chin on her head "Carol, you were strong and smart before I met you. That's how you survived that piece of shit in the first place. You have to face him. You don't have to do it alone; you know I'll be there for ya. I'm not leaving your side. But you can't run from him and I won't let you run from me. I'm just gonna keep following."

Carol took a couple of deep breaths and replied, "I thought for sure he was dead. I thought that part of my life was over."

Daryl had been rubbing slow, small circles of comfort into her back, but stopped and moved his hand to bring her head up. He cradled her face and look intensely into her eyes,"That part of your life _is_ over. You're with us now. You're with me now. At least if that's what you want.".

Carol's eyes began to well up again. She couldn't find the words to respond.

Daryl slowly grazed his thumb over her cheek, "Carol, do you want to be with us? Be part of our family?"

Carol responded solidly, "Yes, more than anything"

Daryl nodded and dropped his gaze for the briefest of moments. He swallowed down his nerves and returned to her eyes, "Carol, do you want to be with me?"

Carol took in a fraction of a gasp as she realized his question. Feeling embarrassed, Carol lowered her eyes and whispered so quietly, Daryl had to strain to hear.

"Yes."

Daryl's stomach knotted and electricity ran up his spine. His only reply was to move his hand down her cheek to hold the top of her neck with his thumb lightly stroking her ear lobe. He pulled her head up and brought his down until their lips met.

The kiss was small, soft, and simple. He felt the fullness of her lips and she reveled in his. After a few beats, Daryl's mouth parted ever so slightly to intensify the kiss.

Carol responded in like and darted her tongue out to meet his lips.

That familiar heat raced up both of their stomachs and into their chests and limbs. Their hearts began to pick up pace and hammer along their sternums. As soon as her tongue graced his lips, they both inhaled sharply. Foreheads together and mouths open, both Carol and Daryl were panting slightly. A second tentative stroke from Carol gave Daryl the permission he sought.

Daryl placed both hands on her face as the two raced to kiss. Slight desperate moans escaped them both as the fierceness of their love finally boiled over. Carol brought her hands to Daryl's chest and began feeling him through his shirt.

He brought one hand down to her waist and squeezed her hip. The two rolled towards Carol so she was on her back and Daryl was almost on top of her.

She moved her hands up the front of his shirt and began to lift it. Daryl sat up and pulled it all the way off. He reached down and unzipped Carol's jacket and began helping her remove layers. Once she was down to her bra, Carol lay back with her chest heaving in anticipation. Daryl took a moment to feel her stomach and sides. His eyes slowly took her in and took in the image of his large, rough hand caressing the soft, pale skin of her body. His eyes finally met hers and she gave a barely perceivable nod.

Daryl leaned forward and devoured her lips. Their bodies and tongues crashed wildly while Daryl slipped his hand up to her breast.

He started feeling her over the bra, but quickly yearned for more. He pulled down the fabric, exposing and lifting her breasts. He palmed her flesh and ran his fingers over her nipple causing it to became instantly hard.

Moaning into his mouth, Carol arched her back to reach around and unhook her bra. While doing so, her abdomen pressed against the erection trapped in his jeans. He stifled a groan as his dick felt the pressure of her body while she removed her bra and exposed herself completely to him.

Daryl kissed her again, then quickly made his way to her breasts. He took the full, soft tissue into his mouth. He rolled the hard nipple with his tongue while holding the opposite breast in the palm of his hand. She arched into his mouth and lightly grabbed his hair.

Daryl continued to suck and play with each breast. When he felt her near the edge, he leaned back and began removing her pants and underwear in one motion.

When she was completely undressed, Carol reached for his pants and began working his belt and zipper. Feeling her small fingers under the band of his pants along his lower stomach was almost his undoing.

When Daryl was also fully unclothed, the two leaned back in unison and he positioned himself between her legs. He wanted to seek her permission before going forward, but Carol wouldn't let go of his mouth. She hitched one of her legs up on his hip and that was all the answer he needed.

They continued devouring each other while he slowly entered her. His dick stretched her and filled her completely. The pressure was almost too much for both of them as they finally had to break their kiss to get air.

With Daryl fully seated inside of her, the two lovers paused and made eye contact. Daryl hovered over her with one arm propping himself up and the other stretched next to her head.

After several deep breaths from them both, Daryl held her gaze with fire and sincerity. He spoke, "I love you".

Carol was almost shocked to tears and nodded through glassy eyes, "I love you too."

One more moment passed before Daryl began moving inside her. The pressure they both felt was decadent as he began to work her body. Every stroke made him harder and harder. Carol brought her knees up more so he could go deeper. They panted and kissed frantically while Daryl pumped her body.

They grappled for each other while he rode her closer to her breaking point. Every inch of his dick was rubbing inside of her, causing an intense, sexual friction to build. She began moaning louder and bucking her hips against him. He could feel her tighten around his rock hard dick, and he knew she was close.

He was unrelenting. He drove into her deeper, harder, and faster as her breath became quick. He leaned forward to her ear and continued working his hips while his gravelly voice reached her, "Come on, baby, come for me".

His voice was her undoing as she detonated around his dick. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream as she arched her back in trembling ecstasy. Her walls clamped down as he fucked her through her orgasm. Just as she peaked, Daryl felt his own climax build. His abs flexed and balls tightened as he pistoned himself as deep as possible.

He felt his body overheat as he reached his own pinnacle and came inside her. Hot, fast spurts of cum were pumped deep into Carol. Each time his hips rocked into hers, she could feel more of his seed filling her. It coated her walls as he lurched forward a few more times and finished.

The two lovers were collapsed on top of each other in a sweaty, sticky heap. Daryl's dick was still inside her as he laid with his head next to hers and lazily placed a series of soft, gentle kisses on her neck. Both were exhausted but satiated. They laid like that for several minutes before Daryl began to soften. He leaned back and both groaned as he removed himself from her.

Carol could feel his cum leaking out from between her legs. She made no attempt to hide or cover up. He had marked her as his and she relished the thought of having some of him still inside her. When Daryl saw some of his seed drip from her, he ran his large hand slowly across her hip to her lower abdomen where some of him remained. They were paired now. Bonded forever. He had claimed her and she had most certainly claimed him.

Carol held his hand in place for a few moments before dragging him down to the bed next to her. Both of them crawled under the covers and slept. Her back was tucked against his chest and his arm draped over her hip and waist. The two bathed in the glow of their new love and slept for hours.

Waking up a few hours later, the two realized it was the middle of the night and almost early morning. Carol ate her precious sour gummy worms and offered a few to Daryl. They laid in bed, snacked, and talked about what to do about Ed.

The dam of emotion had been broken. Even though they weren't having sex, the two couldn't keep their hands of each other. Her hand would land on his stomach while he would punctuate a sentence by caressing up and down her arm. She would give his hip a timid squeeze while he would slowly trace an invisible line from her neck to her belly button.

Carol poured her soul out to Daryl. He listened attentively while she stumbled through putting words to her fears about Ed. Together, they came up with a plan. As dawn appeared, the two got dressed, made the bed, and gathered their belongings. On the way out, Carol made sure to replace the boards on the outside of the house. This place was always special to her, but now it held new meaning.

The walk back to Briar Oak Meadows was slow. Carol took her time, and despite her turning into a capable outdoorsman, she tripped from time to time. Her legs were exhausted from the sex and her whole body needed more sleep. Her mind was racing and not at all focused on the trek back. A few times, Daryl stepped forward and caught her just as she started to fall. He couldn't help but make the comparison to the first time he had walked behind her after rescuing her and Rick.

The nursing home came into sight and the person on guard, Maggie, waved them in from the roof. Before turning into the common room, Carol closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and steeled herself for the awaiting confrontation. Daryl stood behind her reassuringly squeezing her shoulders, "You don't have to do this if you don't want."

Carol opened her eyes and focused on the entrance to the room. "Yes. I do. But can you stay close?"

Daryl nodded and replied, "I'm gonna be behind you the whole time." he gave her one last squeeze, a light kiss on the back of her head, and took a step back. "Whenever you're ready, Carol."

She gave herself three more breaths and walked through the door with her head steady, but hands shaking in her jacket pockets. Rick, and several others were going about their day while taking turns babysitting Ed. They had set him up to sleep on the couch while Daryl was looking for Carol. He was currently stretched on the couch with an empty plate on his stomach, eyeballing every female that was in sight. The three men he had shown up with were released the day before and were eager to leave him behind without a second thought.

Rick and Michonne noticed Carol and Daryl walking in and approached them. Everyone else in the room stopped what they were doing and waited for orders. The four adults whispered for several minutes. Carol apologized for running off and putting Daryl at risk to come find her. She quietly explained how she knew Ed and gave an abbreviated version of their history together. She even went as far as to show them several scars she had, including the ragged skin on her legs from the oil burn.

Ed was sitting up by this time and watching Daryl, Carol, Rick, and Michonne talk. When he noticed Carol holding up the leg of her jeans to show a scar he had given her, he scoffed audibly. The indignant noise caused everyone in the room, especially the four, to turn and glare at Ed. He shut his mouth and began picking at some invisible string on the couch, pretending not to pay attention, but obviously watching Carol from the corner of his eye.

Rick and Michonne returned their attention to Carol, but Daryl continued to stare down Ed. Carol whispered her plans as to what to do with Ed. When she finished, Rick and Michonne exchanged a look and wordlessly agreed to go along with her.

Rick and Michonne stepped apart and allowed Carol to pass through. Daryl began walking towards the courtyard and leaned with his back against the window, never taking his eyes off Ed. Carol approached the couch and stood over her husband. Even though she was shaking inside, she did her best to look confident and calm.

Ed spoke first, "Well, looks like you found someone new to coddle and take care of you. I assume you just opened your legs to the first man you saw and here you are, well fed and sheltered. Do all the guys get a piece or just your white trash, guard dog over there?"

Carol remained as still as possible and trained her eyes on Ed. She tried to read him; see if he had any remorse or humanity in him. Just like in her old life, she didn't understand him. She couldn't see any good. If there was anything positive about this man, it was so far buried under his smug glare that she couldn't see beyond all the pain he had caused her.

Ed waited for her reaction, but she didn't say or do anything. Looking around and avoiding her uncomfortable stare, Ed began speaking a little more loudly to the others in the room. "You know, the first sign of trouble and this bitch is going to run and leave you high and dry. I can tell you that for a fact. Hell, she already did it yesterday. One sign of the _husband_ she screwed over and she heads for the hills. Don't think she'll be anything but a constant drain on your resources and patience."

Everyone in the room was on edge and clearly annoyed with the rambling insults. Carol waited for a moment, then she spoke to everyone without taking her eyes off Ed. "If you all will excuse me, I need to have a private word with Ed." Rick, Michonne, and Daryl remained focused while everyone else in the room exchanged worried glances. No one wanted to leave Carol alone with this man. "Ed, will you follow me please?"

Abe stepped forward, "You want me to hogtie him first? At least let me cuff this asshole".

"You just fucking try it, redneck!" Ed barked.

Abe took a step closer and Ed withdrew.

Carol held up a hand towards Abe, "That won't be necessary. I'll be fine, thank you."

Abe nodded and stepped back. Carol gestured for Ed to follow her towards the courtyard. When she got to the door, she opened it for him and allowed him to enter first. As soon as he had stepped through, with his back facing her, Carol removed a gun from her jacket pocket. In one swift motion, she pointed the gun to the back of his head with the barrel close enough to brush his hair and pulled the trigger.

Ed never saw it coming. He didn't understand from the day he met her, the day they got married, the day she ran away, and to the day she killed him, just what she was capable of. Years of him terrorizing her left Carol with no remorse over her decision. She couldn't let him just leave the nursing home. Ed was possessive and stupid. He would come back for her someday and possibly find someone to help him. She would never sleep soundly again knowing he could find her so easily and she wasn't willing to relinquish her new family. He died quick and painless, which is far more than she owed him considering he had been slowly killing her for years. With her personal terrorist face down in a pool of blood, Carol allowed the tears to fall.

The people in the room had rushed forward and Maggie came down from the roof at the sound of the gunshot, but Michonne and Rick held them back so Carol could have some space. She told them beforehand her plan to kill Ed and they agreed that, while it wasn't always the best option, in this case it was the only way.

Carol slowly dropped to her knees and stared at his body. As tears quietly streamed down her face, Daryl stepped into the courtyard and kneeled down behind her. He put one arm around her shoulders from behind and whispered barely audible reassurances into her ear.

"You're okay," Daryl spoke, "it's over." He used is free hand to take back his gun. After they sat there for a few minutes, Daryl helped her stand up. He dried her eyes and gave her a tight hug. When they broke the embrace, she exited the courtyard with Daryl right behind her. She spoke to Michonne loud enough so everyone could hear.

"I don't expect you all to clean up my messes, but I would appreciate help with the body."

Michonne replied, "Of course. Sit this one out. What do you want us to do with him?"

Carol thought for a few moments before replying, "Do whatever you think is best, just don't tell what you decide. Thanks for your help."

Michonne nodded, gave Carol's arm a reassuring squeeze, and moved to the side to let her and Daryl pass. The group dispersed back to their previous activities and a few people entered the courtyard to address the man on the ground.

Carol walked back to the entrance of her room and saw the mess she had left behind. She dumped her bag on the floor and changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, all with Daryl watching and waiting in the doorway. Without saying a word, she walked towards the door where Daryl led them both to his room. She tucked herself into bed while Daryl got undressed. It was way too early to go to bed, but they were taking the rest of the day off and sleep was the only thing either of them wanted. Daryl crawled under the covers and positioned himself behind her. He wrapped his arms around her as snuggly as he could without hurting her.

The two survivors slept the rest of the day and through the night. The next day was starting over, healing, and moving on, all with Daryl and Carol permanently at each other's side.


End file.
